


a different kind of warmth

by ArgentLives



Series: Across Every Universe (You are Home) [19]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 10:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4874059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentLives/pseuds/ArgentLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iris and Barry have always been each other's warmth, in a way that no amount of blankets or coats could ever replace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a different kind of warmth

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt: "Keeping the other person warm"
> 
> ALSO not really an AU, but posting it anyway; this is super cheesy but that's how I roll

For as long as Iris could remember, they’d been each other’s warmth.

It started when they were little kids, and Iris had found him sitting alone on the swings during recess. It had been the end of September, just as the leaves were beginning to change color, just as the air was beginning to cool and abandon the comfortable heat that the end-of-summer weather had brought.

She’d skipped happily over to where he’d been sitting and plopped herself down on the empty swing next to him, put her chin in her hands, and stared at him for at least a minute until he’d finally noticed she was there. He’d been off in his own little world, and she’d thoughtfully studied his appearance, his over-large t-shirt and scuffed converse making him seem small and unassuming. She’d noticed right away that he was shivering, and had taken in his distinct lack of a jacket.

“’Scuse me,” she’d asked, reaching over and tapping him on the shoulder, “what’re you doing here all by yourself?”

He’d looked at her with wide eyes, and then swept his gaze this way and that, like he was sure that he would find someone else nearby, like he couldn’t believe she could be talking to him. When it was clear that they were alone, he’d blushed and shoved his hands beneath his legs, absentmindedly swinging his legs back and forth, just barely brushing the ground. His response had been so soft and quiet she’d almost missed it.

“’Cause nobody wants to be my friend. Everyone thinks I’m lame. At least that’s what Tony says,” he’d pouted, staring fixedly at the ground.

Iris had very much wanted to find stupid Tony Woodward and punch him in the face, but instead, she’d contented herself with balling her hands into little fists and scrunching up her nose, forcing herself to let the anger pass.

“Well, that’s stupid. _I_ want to be your friend,” she’d huffed, and he’d looked up at her in surprise.

“Yeah?” he’d asked, so uncertain, so in awe of her.

“Uh, yeah, _duh_. My daddy says it’s not good to lie. I wouldn’t lie to you, promise.”

They’d smiled at each other, both unaware of the weight of that moment, of the long-lasting bond they’d just forged. Both just lonely kids happy to have made a new friend.

And then there’d been a gust of wind, and her new friend had wrapped his arms around himself, shivering.

“Why don’t you gotta coat?” Iris had frowned at him in concern.

He’d shrugged, embarrassed.

“It was warm enough yesterday. I didn’t think I’d need it today. But I should’ve listened to my mommy—she’s always right.”

Iris had nodded, hopped off the swing and stood right in front of him to tug at his arms. She’d pulled him off of his swing, eager to get his feet on the ground. And then she’d taken a step forward and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight. He’d stiffened at first, but it hadn’t taken long for him to relax into her touch.

“Um…why’re you hugging me?” he’d asked, completely puzzled, but making no move break their embrace.

“My daddy always says that you can transfer body heat by being real close to somebody. And hugs always help. Is it working?”

“Yeah, it’s working,” he’d replied with a goofy smile that she hadn’t seen, and he’d barely even felt the next gust of wind. Later, when his mom had scolded him for leaving his jacket at home, he’d told her that he was glad he had.

 

* * *

As they’d gotten older, the warmth had become less of a physical thing, and more of a feeling.

Iris could still remember the first night Barry had stayed with them after his mom had been murdered, and his whole world had been torn apart.

She’d been woken up late into to the night—or maybe it had been early into the morning?—by the muffled sobs coming from the room next to hers. In truth, she hadn’t fully fallen asleep in the first place—she’d been too worried about Barry, about how he’d be holding up. And evidently, it wasn’t well.

She’d creeped out of her room and into his, careful not to wake her father. The sight of her best friend, sitting on the bed, arms wrapped tightly around himself and rocking back and forth, had broken her heart. 

She’d sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulders, careful not to startle him. At first it had been like he hadn’t even realized she was there, but she’d sat with him anyway, until suddenly he’d buried his face in her shoulder and cried, his tears soaking through her shirt. That’s when she’d noticed that he was shaking all over, teeth chattering and fingers trembling.

“It’s so cold, Iris. I’m so cold,”he’d said, his voice barely more than a whisper, even though the room had been stuffy and warm. She’d known immediately that he hadn’t been talking about the temperature, but she’d wrapped a blanket around both their shoulders and held him close all the same. Eventually his shaking had stopped, and they’d fallen asleep like that, huddled up under the covers together for a different kind of warmth.

 

* * *

 

In the nine months that Barry had been in the coma, she had thought she’d never feel warm again. It was like someone had sucked all of it out of her, had removed every ounce of heat from her body and left her so, so numb.

She would visit him at S.T.A.R. Labs, and he wouldn’t move, he wouldn’t talk, he wouldn’t even recognize that she was there. She’d be sitting right next to him, and yet he’d be so far away. And she felt cold, cold, cold.

Once, during one of her regular after-work visits, she had voiced this concern to Cisco and Caitlin.

“It’s really cold in here, don’t you think?” she’d said.

Cisco had eyed her dubiously, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he’d mentioned something about the heater being on full blast. 

But Caitlin had nodded at her, and from the look in her eyes, from the very way that she carried herself, Iris knew that she’d understood. That she had lost someone, too.

“Yes. Yes, it’s freezing,” Caitlin had whispered, voice breaking, and shortly after she’d fled the room, Cisco following closely at her heels.

And as Iris had looked back at Barry, so pale and motionless, as she’d start to worry whether he was ever going to wake up, she’d wondered if he felt cold, too. If he could feel  _anything_ , laying there, oblivious to what was going on around him, so completely unaware of his surroundings. Unaware of _her_ , sitting so close, with her hand always, always over his heart. Assuring herself that he wasn’t entirely gone. Not yet.

She’d figured he was probably just as numb.

She’d lay her jacket over him and lie down beside him, trying to warm him up, trying to make herself warm, but it never worked. He was there in body, but he wasn’t really there with her.

And then she’d met Eddie, and her world had thawed just a little. Some of the warmth she’d been so desperately missing had started to bleed back into her veins. And yet, as long as Barry wasn’t by her side, as long as the daunting prospect that he’d never wake up, that she’d lost him forever, still hung over her head, it just wasn’t the same. Not even close.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until the day Barry had stepped into Jitters, until she had seen him walking toward her, awake and smiling and very much alive, that she had remembered exactly what she’d been missing, what it was like to feel full again. Only then had the numbness truly melted away. 

And it hadn’t even been until he’d caught her in his arms and they had held each other tight that the heat had really filled her up again, seeped into every pore, traveled through every inch of her body. In that moment, she’d never felt warmer. 

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my [tumblr](http://bisexualiriswest.tumblr.com/), as most of these prompt fills are.


End file.
